Heirloom
by huskerMJW
Summary: The Malfoy family heritage is more than just riches and a manor house, and Draco isn't sure what, or who, he wants anymore. Draco/Seamus romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_**3**__**rd**__** December. Hogwarts corridor, 3PM. **_

'_Relashio!' _

The ladder beneath Seamus Finnigan's feet began to shake violently before throwing him to the ground, right at the feet of three students who were draped in deep green Slytherin cloaks.

'Lose your footing, Finnigan?' cackled their leader. Seamus was too dreary from the fall to note their faces, but he recognised the sardonic, mocking voice. Draco Malfoy. '_Levicorpus!' _

'Malfoy, wha-' Before he could finish his sentence Seamus's feet began to ascend, dragging his body behind, until he looked directly into the face of Malfoy and his two cowardly minions. 'Fuck you, Malfoy. Fuck you.' But Seamus's cussing went unheard, or at least unacknowledged, as Malfoy was too busy bragging to the congregation of students gathering at the end of the corridor.

Draco sneered, and stepped closer to his hopeless victim. 'What's the matter with you, Finnigan? You're looking flushed.' Seamus could feel the blood rushing to his face; the result of both gravity and the rage building inside him. Malfoy turned and looked toward the cluster of students forming, then raised his arms in celebration, like a fisherman celebrating his catch of the day. 'Thank you, thank you one and all!'

Fumbling in the pocket of his robe, Seamus drew his wand and pointed it at the back of Draco's head. He ran through the incantation and wand technique that Harry had taught him, praying that he would get it right this time.

'_Stupefy!_'

A jet of red light swarmed at the tip of his wand, which Seamus flicked with impeccable technique. It rocketed forward, hitting Malfoy with such force that the crowd of students had to step aside to avoid being hit by the airborne bully. He crashed headfirst into the ground, collapsing into a forward roll, and then lay, dazed, on the stone floor. Seamus, having descended to the ground again after successfully breaking Malfoy's concentration, approached his attacker, wand drawn. The Slytherin lay unconscious.

'Mr Finnigan!' exclaimed the all-too-familiar voice of Professor McGonagall, in her all-too-familiar disappointed tone. 'Explain yourself at once!' He always found that Professor McGonagall had an unequalled ability to make him feel guilty with nothing more than a steel, cold glare. He genuinely didn't want to disappoint her, and, besides his apparent penchant for accidental pyrotechnics, he felt like he was one of her favourites. But moments like this made him think otherwise.

'Professor, I... he was... I was just...' She tapped her foot impatiently. 'He attacked... I was trying to... he... I didn't mean to...'

'Mr Finnigan, you are a Fifth Year now, are you not?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'And, in being in your fifth year, you have, I assume, developed the ability to string together more than two-word sentences?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'Then please, demonstrate your aptitude in kindly explaining to me why Mr Malfoy is unconscious at your feet.'

Seamus paused for a second, composed himself, and then began relating the story. It wasn't long before Malfoy woke up and gave his perspective on how Seamus had ruthlessly attacked him with as stunning spell while he was on his way to practice his transfiguration. It wasn't until Seamus rubbed his head attempting to soothe a painful bump that he could feel forming that Professor McGonagall could piece together the story. His fingertips were covered in fresh blood from a wound that until now had been disguised by his thick black hair.

'Mr Malfoy, I shall see you in detention. My office. Five points from Slytherin.' The Professor then turned to Seamus, ignoring the angry mumbling of Draco as he headed off down the corridor in the opposite direction. 'Get yourself to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey will have you fixed up ready for my transfiguration lesson this afternoon.' He couldn't be sure, but Seamus thought he saw the faintest flicker of a smile on her face, as if she was congratulating him on not allowing Malfoy to go about terrorising students in one of his pompous rages, but he knew she was too professional to admit to such a thing. He would've been sure he'd seen the smile if he hadn't been awaiting the inevitable 'but' passing her lips. 'But, I shall see you, too, in detention for using a stunning spell on another student. You could have seriously injured Mr Malfoy. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?'

And with that, Professor McGonagall turned and walked away down the corridor, ushering students to get to their lessons as she went, leaving Seamus to revel in the congratulations of nearby students who had witnessed his perfected execution of the stunning spell on a deserving victim.

_**3**__**rd**__** December. Professor McGonagall's Office. 6PM.**_

'But Professor,' begged Malfoy, 'all I used was one measly levitation spell! He had no right to brutally attack me like that. What if I had cracked my head open? What if I had suffered brain damage? What if I'd been thrown into another student? What if I-'

'Mr Malfoy, I think we all understand how serious the situation could have been.' Professor McGonagall didn't look up from her parchment. 'But, no matter how _measly_ you think your part in these events may have been, you have quite clearly chosen to disobey the rules here at Hogwarts, and you must be justly punished. Now, sit yourself down.'

The scrawling of her quill juxtaposed with the infernal ticking of the antiquated clock sat on her desk created an unbearable cacophony in Draco's mind. He took his seat and let his head collapse onto the desk, then clasped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the world. Sure, he had a bit of fun; maybe it was at the expense of another student, but it was just a bit of fun. He could have died. He could only imagine the hellfire that would be coming down on Hogwarts had his father found out about this. Draco's hands couldn't filter out the noise. The tapping fingers of that pathetic Gryffindor penetrated his barrier, cut through the sanctity of his private world. He covered his ears more tightly, feeling the pressure of his palms building on the outside of his head, but still the monotonous beating of his fingers on the desk battled through.

'Shut the hell up, Finnigan!' he shouted, banging his fist on the table at the same time so hard that it unsettled several magical birds who were sat in cages at the side of the room, likely used to demonstrate some useless transfiguration spell. What use is turning a bird into a chair or a magnifying glass? If he could make them ten times bigger and give them venom or tusks or claws it might be useful, but that isn't the kind of transfiguration that McGonagall believed in. The birds squawked mercilessly.

'Oh, Mr Malfoy, will you please just sit in silence?' said Professor McGonagall, who, this time, stopped writing on her parchment and looked the student straight in the eye. Malfoy stared back, unbreakingly, determinedly. It wasn't until the Professor turned her head to look at the unsettled birds that Malfoy put his head back down on his desk. She stood and approached the cages, slowly, as not to alarm them. Draco could hear her whispering something that sounded a little like an incantation, but it made no difference to the deathly squawking of the birds. She sighed, and turned back to the students. 'I'm going to have to take these to Professor Hagrid to deal with. You two stay put.'

Draco and Finnigan's eyes met, both preparing to hear the close of the door and unleash their attack. Slowly and subtly, they began shifting their positions to allow the fastest drawing of a wand. Whoever got their attack in first would likely be the victor. The Professor lifted the bird cages, two with an enchantment and another in her hand, and headed for the door. It creaked open, slowly. 'Professor Flitwick is in the room next door. If I hear that a single word has been uttered, you will both be in the headmaster's office faster than you can say _Expelliarmus_.' Malfoy and Finnigan continued staring at each other. Their eyes were ruthless and prepared. 'Come to think of it', she said, 'hand over your wands. I'm not having you demolish my office over some petty feud. Come on, both of you.'

She crossed the office again and outstretched one hand in their direction. Neither wizard offered their wand up. 'Your wands, gentlemen.' Reluctantly, Seamus reached into his pocket, drew his wand, and placed it in the professor's hand. 'Thank you, Mr Finnigan.' She then looked to Draco, who continued leering at the Gryffindor. 'Your wand.' With a scowl and clenching of his fist, Malfoy reached into his pocket and handed over the wand, ensuring he did it as angrily as possible. Professor McGonagall turned and left the room, swinging the door closed behind her.

They both waited, quietly, almost peacefully, as the Professor's footsteps got more and more distant. Then they heard it – the closing of the door at the end of the corridor. She was gone. Draco stood first. He launched himself across the room, kicking off from his desk, and landing a clenched fist hard in Finnigan's face. Seamus recoiled, and responded by burying his knee deep in Malfoy's gut. The Slytherin collapsed to the floor, clutching his abdomen, writhing in pain, before grabbing at Finnigan's legs and wrestling him to the ground. 'You're dead, Gryffindor,' he shouted, as he placed his hands around Seamus's throat. He gasped for air, clawing at Malfoy desperately but being unable to get a grip of anything but the fabric of his cloak. He tore at it frantically, trying to distract Malfoy enough to loosen his grip, but nothing. Ripping away the material, he exposed the bare flesh of Draco's right arm upon which Seamus could make out a fresh cut, probably from his fall to the ground in the corridor earlier. He buried his thumb as deep into the wound as he could. Malfoy roared in pain, releasing his throat. The pain burned as he prised Finnigan's hand away from his wound, then, in catching his breath, lost his balance and was overturned by Finnigan. 'Fuck you, Slytherin.' He pinned Malfoy down, contemplating his next move, then heard the slamming of a door in the corridor. Somebody was coming. In his moment of distraction, Malfoy's legs wriggled free and he thrust a knee into Finnigan's groin, leaving him winded and breathless. He collapsed onto Malfoy, their two bodies meeting, shouting out in pain. Attempting to keep Malfoy secure, he reached an arm out to grip onto the Slytherin's wayward limb, but missed, leaving his upper body unsupported. He fell onto Malfoy, and, for a second, their lips met.

Immediately, they both stopped struggling. Malfoy could feel Seamus's hot breath on his face, see fresh blood on his inner lip, and taste it on his. For a second they lay there, bewildered, confused, until the door to the office burst open behind them.

'_Wingardium Leviosa!_' announced Professor Flitwick, lifting Seamus from atop Draco. 'What do you two think you're playing at?'

Draco and Seamus didn't reply. Instead they continued staring at each other, both wondering if the other had noticed what they had shared. Draco licked the blood from his mouth, and then turned to Professor Flitwick. 'Nothing, Sir. Nothing,' he said, and then took his seat again.

Seamus continued standing. The goblin did not look amused. 'Well, boy?' Seamus considered his answer carefully, reciting different compositions of the story over and over again in his head. As he opened his mouth to reply, a thin trickle of blood dripped from his lip, onto his chin. He wiped it clean.

More footsteps, and then the displeased figure of Professor McGonagall reappeared in the doorway. 'Professor, what has happened here?' she asked, before the goblin ushered her outside and began explaining what he'd seen. Seamus took his seat, refusing to make eye contact with Malfoy. He tongued around his mouth to feel for a cut. There was none. The blood was Draco's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

_**4**__**th**__** December. Hospital Wing. 1AM.**_

Seamus lay, battered and bruised, on the most uncomfortable hospital bed he had ever had the misfortune of testing. He had spent so much time here over the past five years that he knew most of the staff by name and could usually use his frequent injuries as a way of securing the most comfortable beds and nicest food, but Professor Dumbledore had been so unamused by their antics that he specified to Madame Pomfrey that he and Malfoy be put in the least comfortable beds and be treated to no luxuries. He had managed to nod off for a couple of minutes, but a snoring student in the next bed made sure that those would be the only minutes of the entire night. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but knew it was of no use because he couldn't stop playing through _that_ moment over and over again. Had Draco noticed the contact? He must have. He must have felt it. Seamus could still taste Draco's blood in his mouth.

It surely didn't qualify as a kiss though. It was completely involuntary. It was unintentional. Besides, Seamus had a crush on Cho Chang – how could he suddenly just... kiss someone else. A Slytherin. A boy! A Malfoy! No, he wouldn't think about it any longer. He would give it no more thought, because it deserved nothing more. It was an accident. Malfoy would be seen dead before he'd be seen kissing a boy. Seamus swept it from his mind, desperately thinking of something else to occupy his mind. Perhaps the way he'd been working on the desk opposite Cho in Potions and she'd given him a kiss on the cheek after he helped save her poor attempt at brewing a Polyjuice Potion. Or the way he had brushed past her in-between the bookshelves of the library and their bodies had touched. Or the way she had worn that short skirt a few weeks back and he'd followed her up the stairs to Professor Trelawney's Divination lesson. He let his hands reach down his body and feel that he was aroused.

He couldn't forget. He had kissed Draco. Even now, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Seamus bit his lip, knowing that Draco's blood had been there, knowing that he had tasted something that no other boy had, and it excited him. It aroused him. No, no – he couldn't. He pulled his hand from underneath the blanket and sat up in bed, hanging his head in shame.

Echoing footsteps on the ward caught Finnigan's ear. He was supposed to be asleep. Subtly, Seamus began manoeuvring, but the springs of the bed creaked loudly, and the footsteps stopped. Seamus froze. They started again, getting louder and louder. _Shit_, he thought. _Madame Pomfrey's gonna be so mad..._

A hand reached around the curtain separating his bed from the next, and drew it open. Seamus's stomach churned, terrified that he was going to be further punished. This isn't who he is. He just wanted to do well in his studies, become a good wizard, be liked by the Professors. The figure drew the curtain closed behind them, and moved closer to Seamus. It wasn't a member of staff. It was Malfoy. His hair was messy and out-of-place. He was wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms, leaving his bare torso exposed. Seamus refused to look. Seamus didn't want to look.

'What do _you_ want, Malfoy?', Seamus announced.

'Shut up, Finnigan,' whispered Malfoy. 'You're gonna get us in more trouble than you already have.'

'I got us in trouble? You're the one who _attacked_ me, who _punched_ me, who...'

'Who what, Finnigan? _Kissed_ you?'

'We didn't kiss, I fell because you moved your arm.'

'No, you forced yourself on me. You tried to kiss me, but I moved away.'

Seamus laughed. 'Why would I want to kiss you, Slytherin? Even if I was gay, you Malfoys would hardly be my type. Everyone knows I like Cho, anyway.'

'Cho Chang? That Ravenclaw that Potter's been lusting after? C'mon, Finnigan. Don't fool yourself. You tried to kiss me.'

'Get fucked, Malfoy.'

'You'd like that, wouldn't you.' Draco sniggered to himself. 'You queer.'

'I'm not gay, Malfoy.'

'Finnigan, I think we both know tha...-'

Footsteps. Somebody was on the ward. Only staff are permitted to walk the wards this late.

'Shit', whispered Malfoy, who looked around desperately for somewhere to hide. His eyed darted back and forth across the room, desperately seeking somewhere to hide. The curtain was too thin to disguise his figure. The space under the bed was filled with various medical apparatus. Finnigan looked at Draco's vulnerable, exposed frame before him. His ribs showed clearly though his pale skin, and his arms were trembling, either because he was cold, or he was scared of being caught.

'Move over, Finnigan,' he whispered, lifting up the bedsheets.

'What the fu...- No, Malfoy! You're the one out of bed, not me! You get out of this yourself.'

'C'mon, I need to hide! Where am I gonna go? Please, Finnigan.'

Seamus looked at Draco before him, surprised at having heard him use the word 'please' for the first time, but trying not to show it. The footsteps were getting louder. 'Fine,' he said 'but just until they leave.'

Draco clambered into the bed, hearing it squeak loudly as he did so. The footsteps got quicker, approaching the bed. He climbed in, moved under the sheets, and drew them over his head. Seamus could feel his semi-naked body pressed against his, and felt glad that he was facing the other way so Draco couldn't notice that he was aroused even more so by this. He shut his eyes tight.

The noise of the rungs at the top of the curtain clanging together hurt Seamus's teeth. He felt Malfoy grip him tighter beneath the covers. The footsteps got closer. Somebody was stood right above the bed, so close that he could hear them breathing. He could _feel_ Malfoy's breathing on his back under the covers. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, praying that the observer would leave and not find him stowing somebody beneath the covers. Everybody would find out. His friends, his family... everyone would know that Seamus had hidden a semi-naked Draco Malfoy under the covers of his bed, to _protect _him, as if it was some kind of duty.

The footsteps started up again as the person walked away. They remained frozen in position until they heard the door close at the end of the ward. Awash with shame and embarrassment, Seamus lifted the covers and looked into the terrified eyes of Malfoy. For a second, he wanted to comfort him, tell him they'd gotten away with it, tell him he was safe. But only for a second.

'They've gone,' Seamus uttered, in as emotionless and cold a voice as he could summon.  
>Draco poked his head above the covers and looked around, making sure the room was clear. He sighed loudly, and shuffled upwards.<p>

'Thanks, Seamus', said Draco. They both knew it was the first time Draco had used his name.

Their heads crept closer on the pillow. Both disbelieving what they were doing, but both having never wanted anything so much in their lives. Their lips met again, this time voluntarily, and they embraced. Neither felt any shame as Seamus ran his hand down Draco's bare back, and kissed him compassionately, wantingly. Their lips separated. Draco ran a finger through Seamus's hair.

'You say nothing. Nothing, Gryffindor.'

Seamus said nothing. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**4**__**th**__** December. Potions. 9AM.**_

Seamus was late. Again. His bruised left leg was still hurting him, and he struggled traversing the stairs down into the dungeons, especially after the long walk from the Hospital Ward. Better safe than sorry, he thought, though he doubted that Professor Snape would share the same sentiment. He reached the door, composed himself, and slowly began to push the antiquated wood forward. For a second he thought he may be able to join the back of the class unnoticed, before the unholy squeaking of the rusted hinges drew the attention of every pair of eyes in the classroom. Seamus went cold. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. What had Draco told them? Did everybody know? Somebody giggled. He could see Ron and Hermione biting their lips, trying not to laugh. _So this is how I lose my dignity_, thought Seamus. _By being a fucking idiot and thinking that just for once Draco had shown some real emotion._ He could see Malfoy stood on the other side of the room, cackling along with some of his Slytherin minions. A hand clasped down on Seamus's shoulder, and gripped him so tightly that he could feel the bones in its fingertips.

'Late, Mr Finnigan.'

The cold, nasally voice of Snape was unmistakable. The hand loosened its grip slightly then pushed him into the room.

'Perhaps you think yourself already a master concoctor of Hemmingdew Potion. That must be the reason you feel you need not attend the first ten minutes of my lesson. Tell me, Mr Finnigan, what precisely is the function of a Hemmingdew Potion?'

'I don't know, Sir.'

'Clearly,' said Snape, with a sneer in his voice. 'Perhaps you had better make more of an effort to attend my lessons _on time_ in future.' Seamus nodded in reply, his eyes fixed firmly, and ashamedly, on the ground. 'Now, join a pair. Let us see if anything can be salvaged for you in the rest of this session.'

The room felt chilled and humiliating. Each pair slowly returned to their cauldrons, muttering to each other as they did so, and Seamus doubted they were discussing the potency of their potions. Glancing around the room, he looked for vacant spaces but found only a spatter of empty stools next to students he didn't recognise. He picked up a stool and headed toward his fellow Gryffindors.

'Any room for one more?' he asked, but received no reply other than a few subtle shakes of the head. Everybody knew that the group Seamus was attached to became Snape's target for the rest of the session. He didn't blame them for it – he would've been the same had he been in their position. Slowly, stool in hand, he made his way around the classroom. Most pairs ignored him pretending they hadn't noticed his passing by, others muttered 'Sorry' or 'We're almost done, mate', or some other excuse to keep him as far away as possible. Cho Chang caught his eye, sat with a Ravenclaw he didn't recognise at the back of the room. She looked confused, concerned even, knowing that if she needed to ask for help she'd be ridiculed too. Seamus watched her, planning out his heroic entrance in his head, but was so caught up in his fantasy that he failed to notice the desk in front of him, which he crashed into with an almighty bang. He turned and found himself face to face with Draco and his Slytherin friends.

'Watch it, Gryffindor!' spat Malfoy. 'Just because you're incompetent doesn't mean you need to sabotage our work too.'

'I'm sorry, Dra...-, Malfoy. It was an accident. I didn't... I was just...'

'Spit it out, Finnigan. Or, better yet, fuck off and go combust somebody else's potion.' Malfoy turned to his friends and laughed with them. As he turned back around, Seamus looked into his eyes, searching for some acknowledgement, some glimmer, some consciousness of what they had shared the night before. It wasn't there.

'You can work with us, Seamus.' The voice of Cho Chang was authoritative but welcoming. Seamus admired how she was never phased by Malfoy or his minions. He looked at her, smiled, and walked to join her at her desk. It was hardly the heroic entrance he had planned, but it would suffice.

'Thanks, Cho.'

'Maybe you can help us figure out where we're going wrong.'

'Ha, you heard Snape. I'm shit at Potions.'

'Don't listen to him, Seamus.' Cho smiled at him. 'Snape thinks everybody but his precious Slytherin boys are rubbish at Potions.'

Seamus smiled back.

'Thanks, Cho.'

_**4**__**th**__** December. Slytherin Common Room, Boys' Dormitory. 10PM.**_

Draco lay awake in bed, replaying the events of the last couple of days over and over again in his head. The dormitory was just beginning to settle around him. A couple of Slytherin boys were still traipsing about, a couple of them returning semi-naked from the Girls' Dormitory across the walkway, in an obvious attempt to boast about their sexual exploits. Draco was unimpressed. The deep green bedsheets hugged his body tightly, almost uncomfortably. Moonlight poured in through the window, refracting and reflecting through the crystal ball that sat on his beside unit, projecting a small light pattern on its wooden surface. A number of different colours, so different, so bold, yet, somehow, the same. His mother had gifted the crystal ball to him in his first year of Hogwarts, saying it would allow his ancestors to keep him safe. Apparently it had been part of the Malfoy family for many generations, and had protected each first-born son during their time at Hogwarts. Malfoy didn't think it to be anything more than ritual and foolish Muggle-like superstition, but he humoured his mother and had kept it safe.

The cloudy sky slowly began to obscure the moon, letting less and less light filter through, and the pattern faded until the colours could barely be seen.

What would his ancestors say if they could see him now? Lay awake, not considering how to maintain the pure-blood status of the family, or how his future career will support the Malfoy estate, but whether he was attracted to Gryffindor. A boy. He knew they would be ashamed. He knew he was bringing shame to the Malfoy family. He didn't even know if what he felt was real. He hadn't meant to kiss Finnigan in the fight, and perhaps he had picked up some sort of illness or curse in the Hospital Ward that had left him weak-minded and vulnerable to the Gryffindor's advances. Draco hadn't initiated any of it. He hadn't _wanted_ any of it. Seeing him with that Mudblood Cho that afternoon hadn't made him jealous or bitter or angry. He could quite happily never see Finnigan again, and would have forgotten about him within a few weeks. Days, even.

The clouds surrounding the moon moved on, and the moonlight intensified. The colours appeared again, brighter and bolder than before: a shocking red, juxtaposed in an elegant sequence with hues of yellows, greens and blues. Draco tried to trace the patterns with his index finger, but it cast a shadow over the desk, blocking the light, whenever he drew near.

He wondered whether Seamus was lay awake too, thinking over what had happened, or whether had had already moved on. Cho had been more than friendly with him earlier. He expected he had already forgotten all about their kiss. After the way Draco had treated him earlier, who could blame him? He didn't mean to react so furiously, but what was he supposed to do? Give Seamus a pat on the back and welcome him into the group? Besides, he and Cho are made for each other. Seamus hadn't noticed that Draco spent the rest of that Potions session eavesdropping on their conversation, picking up on every flirtatious giggle and spying on every brief moment of eye contact they shared.

He lifted the orb, holding it before his face. The light cast an array of colours across his pale face, and Draco peered through it, witnessing the spectrum of colours flickering and glowing within. They pulsated, aching for Draco to reach in and touch them. A beautiful happening, but one which can never be touched. He ran his fingers along the smooth surface of the orb, feeling its contours. He longed to be touched, for somebody to hold him close and witness his beautiful happening. He, who can be touched. And, in every fantasy that his mind took him to in those few precious minutes, there was one constant. He longed to be touched by Seamus. To show him that beneath the cold reflection of his family, Draco Malfoy is beautiful.

The moonlight faded once more, and a band of cloud, thicker than before, crept before the moon, hiding its majestic form, sheltering the world from its beams. The spectrum faded into nothingness.

_**7**__**th**__** December. Library. 2PM.**_

Malfoy rubbed his eyes, damning himself for how little sleep he got the night before. _Transfiguration and Tyranny: the Art of Transfiguring in the Battlefield_ by Persephone Palgrew wasn't engaging him as much as he had hoped. It looked like McGonagall's pointless lessons on how to turn a dormouse into a doorstop would have to do for now. '_Librum Invenus_', he uttered, grasping his wand loosely between two fingers, and the pages of the book began to turn, faster and faster, before settling on a double page which it felt most appropriate. On the left was a picture of a desk which had been transfigured into a fanged beast, attacking the invaders of a home. On the right was an explanation of the spell's origins, etymologies and limitations. Draco's eyes skimmed the text, but, as much as he tried, he could not keep them open.

'Malfoy? Are you okay?'

Blaise Zabini stood next to the library desk, tapping an unconscious Malfoy on the shoulder. He stirred, then rubbed his eyes.

'Yeah. Yeah, Blaise. I'm just tired.'

'Haha, what were you up to last night then? You shoulda come to the Girls' Dorm with us. You know Pansy has a thing for you. She was asking after you last night.'

'Maybe. I don't know, Blaise. I've got a tonne of stuff to finish for Potions.'

'Come on, Draco. Snape ain't gonna care. Pansy's gagging for it, man.'

'Maybe. I don't know, maybe.'

Blaise smiled playfully, then tapped Draco on his shoulder, and with nothing more than a 'See yah, man,' he was gone. Draco wondered how long he'd been unconscious. The nearest window was out of sight, and there was nobody nearby he could ask. He considered just shutting his eyes again and staying there, but knew Umbridge would never let him forget it if he missed one of her Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.

He rooted his hands firmly on the desk and pushed down, lifting himself to his feet. His body throbbed with exhaustion and misery. Slowly, Draco made his way down the narrow gap between bookshelves. Whispers hovered in the air of a conversation going on in secret nearby, too quiet to pick out anything other than the excitement in the two voices. The indecipherable murmurs teased Draco's ears with their mystery. He slowed his pace, hoping to be able to hear more clearly. As he grew closer to the end of the aisle, the conversation became clearer. The voices of a boy and a girl.

'But do you want to?', said the girl.

'Of course I want to. I really do.'

'It's just, you seemed a little distant this morning.'

'I was tired. I didn't get a great night's sleep.'

There was a pause, then the voice of the girl. 'I want to, too.'

'Really? I mean, are you sure?'

'Sure I do, Seamus. I really like you.'

The name cut into Draco like a blade twisting in his stomach. It tore at his insides. He had spent all night saying the name to himself in his head, but he hadn't heard it aloud. He didn't want to hear it aloud. Creeping forward, Draco peered between the books and caught sight of them – Cho and Seamus – talking in the next aisle.

'I like you too', said Cho. 'It should be fun.'

'Brilliant,' said Seamus. 'We'll go together then.'

_**7**__**th**__** December. Library. 2.40PM.**_

Cho smiled, and Seamus reflected it back at her. He looked happy. He could feel his hand trembling as he moved it towards her and gently gripped her fingertips. She moved towards him, and he towards her. His eyes closed as their lips met. He could feel Cho's hands creeping onto his back, gripping his flesh, willing his body closer.

The sound of a book falling to the floor disturbed the peaceful silence of the library. Seamus let go of Cho's hand, his senses alert to the presence of an eavesdropper. For a second he stood still, waiting for a noise. A sense. A perfect stillness filled the air around them, waiting to be disturbed. A creaking floorboard gave hints of eavesdropper's position, coming from the other side of the bookcase behind Seamus. The silence returned. Seamus looked at Cho, who drew her wand, but he signalled to put it away and then started his walk to find the intruder. As he started moving, he could hear the creaking of floorboards behind the bookcase getting faster and faster as the person started to run. Almost at full sprint, Seamus burst out of the aisle and turned to the left. In a flurry of moves, he started his charge, drew his wand, and prepared to unleash the disarming spell.

'_Expellia_..-'

Before he could finish the incantation he was knocked to the ground by the sly eavesdropper, whose shirt he gripped so tightly that he heard the rip of material. He was left with a ripped section of a white shirt lined with neat purple stitching gripped between his fingertips, but the spy escaped. Cho rushed to his rescue, helping him to his feet.

'Are you okay, Seamus? Who was it? Why are they running?'

'I... I didn't see.'

He looked at the patch trying to remember who he had seen wearing the expensive design, but his mind was blank, not to mention nauseated after the fall.

'Come on,' he said. 'We'd better get to Umbridge's DA or she'll flip.'

As they began to walk, Seamus realised that Cho still hadn't let go of his hand after helping him up from the ground. In one hand, he felt her soft, delicate skin, in the other, the coarse material of the ripped shirt. He tucked it away in his pocket. They walked, hand-in-hand, towards the lesson. They discussed who could have been watching, and why they would have found it so interesting, deciding that it was probably some perverted first year. Seamus insisted that every first year boy had a crush on Cho, though she refused to take the compliment.

By the time they arrived to Professor Umbridge's lesson, most of the class were seated and already sat copying from books. Umbridge stood near the doorway handing out books to the new arrivals and giving them instructions to _start reading at page 143, and copy the passage entitled 'Wary about Werewolves'. _

Fifteen minutes later, Seamus had finished skimming the text and picked up his quill in preparation to start writing. Umbridge had been talking for the last five minutes, but he hadn't really been listening.'

'...So, you see, we should not always be afraid of that which changes its form, but we should always be wary. Werewolves may look scary and intimidating, but really they are beasts like every other. Many live amongst us, hiding their true identity, but we as a positive wizarding society weed them out and expose them as the beasts they are. For, nobody, truly, can lead two lives and keep them apart. In fact, we must be sure to...'

Umbridge stopped speaking. Her eyes were fixed on the door. A smile crept across her face.

'Mr Malfoy. It's nice to know that you've decided to fit us in to your busy schedule today.'

Seamus looked up and saw Draco stood in the doorway. He hadn't noticed that the Slytherin's seat had gone unoccupied. He was dressed in a woolly jumper.

'And why, may I ask,' continued Umbridge, 'have you decided to make such a... noticeable fashion statement against Hogwarts's prescribed uniform?'

'Sorry, Professor. I overslept. I couldn't find my shirt when I woke up, and didn't want to miss your lesson, so just threw this on and ran here.'

'For somebody who's just ran half the length of the castle only having just woken up, you seem to be coping rather well. Not even broken a sweat, I notice. Here, join me at the front of the classroom.'

Draco hesitated.

'Come on now, Mr Malfoy.'

Slowly, he made his way across the room. Everybody's eyes were leering at him, but he only cared about one pair. He looked at Seamus. Seamus was already looking at him. Umbridge welcomed Draco to the front of the room with an outstretched arm, and led him to her desk.

'Now, perhaps you'd like to start copying something different to the rest of the class.'

She placed her enchanted quill down in front of him. The class murmured, and Draco could overhear them talking about Harry's detention where he had been forced to use the same cursed implement.

'_I will not be late to my lesson_. Write it.' Umbridge's smile and joyful tone never faltered.

He ran his fingers across the soft feathers of the quill, then picked it up. As he pressed it to the paper, he felt the pressure cutting into the back of his hand like a knife. He looked up at the class, most of whom had returned to their work. Seamus was now looking at his desk, but he wasn't writing. Draco watched him, examining his profile closely. He began writing. Every letter took an eternity, slicing into his flesh, burning his hand. He clenched his fist in pain, his stare still firmly fixed on Seamus: his badly brushed hair; the look on his face of intense concentration; the tufts of hair on his chin that he had missed while shaving this morning; the mark of lipstick on his cheek that Cho hadn't told him about.

'Mr Malfoy,' said Umbridge, with an air of confusion in her voice.

Draco looked at her. Her smile had vanished.

'Mr Malfoy, I assume you know how to spell _I will not be late to my lesson_?'

Malfoy looked down at his hand, and saw the inscription cut into the back of his hand. He dropped the quill. The carving on the back of his hand read three letters. 'SEA'.

_**8**__**th**__** December. Slytherin Common Room, Boys' Dormitory. 3AM. **_

Draco lay awake in bed. He turned to his beside unit and gazed, once more, at the crystal ball. He paused for a second, and then picked it up. With all his might, he launched it across the room, and felt tears forming in his eyes.

_**8**__**th**__** December. Gryffindor Common Room, Boys' Dormitory. 3AM. **_

Seamus turned in his sleep, and his hand fell free of the covers. Hanging loose from the edge of the bed, his clenched fingers opened and a small piece of ripped white ripped material with neat purple stitching fell to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**10**__**th**__** December. School Grounds. 4PM.**_

Draco had hardly noticed the foreboding dark clouds visible above the Forbidden Forest when he had decided to take a walk around the school grounds. He didn't care either. He couldn't deny to himself that the inhabitants of the wood scared him, there was always something alluring about its mystery. He walked parallel to its boundary, glancing in cautiously hoping to catch sight of any inhabitants, even though he knew none would dare come this close to the school grounds. It oozed sadness from the pores of its lonely, blossomless trees and dusty, undisturbed ground, wallowing in its isolation and desolateness. Draco wondered how long it had been since the ground was last trodden upon. No student dared cross its barrier, the groundskeeper would always use the same familiar routes, and no magical beasts dared encroach upon its boundaries. The temptation to mark it was unforgiving, unrelenting, undying. To know that he could mark his own path where no other would, traverse ground on his own path without knowing he was merely following in the footsteps of another.

He could resist no longer. Cautiously, carefully, but determinedly, Draco stepped towards the woodland. He placed his hand, tactfully, so that he could draw his wand and defend himself if anything was to attack. Nothing did. With every step, Draco relished in the sound of leaves and branches crunching underfoot, knowing that such sounds had not passed this stagnant air in so long. He imagined it to be an eternity. The sound of water hitting the leaves above him created a beautiful, refreshing symphony. He planted his feet firmly into the damp ground, leaving clear, satisfying prints of the underside of his trainers in the mud. He closed his eyes and let his senses guide him, his arms stretched out in front, pushing against the hard bark of trees, brushing along branches of leaves, pricking his fingers on thorns. The fresh woodland air filled his nostrils, elated him, and carried him somewhere non-corporeal, where he felt he could soar free and independently like the phoenix he had seen in Dumbledore's office. He ran in circles, zigzags and all manner of shapes, feeling his feet pressing the fresh trails into the ground. He smiled, and soared.

The sound of a cracking branch underfoot from somewhere behind him brought Draco back to reality. His eyes bolted open as he drew his wand and felt his blank, euphoric mind deteriorate as it filled again with knowledge of incantations, defences and tactics.

'Draco?'

The Irish twang of Seamus's voice carried through the air, making it instantly recognisable even against the deafening sound of heavy rain. Draco turned and saw Seamus, soaked to the skin, crossing the boundary into the forest. He was dressed in his uniform, and the white of his shirt had become translucent in the rainwater, revealing the skin of his torso. He was shivering. Draco looked away and started kicking, gently, at the root of a tree.

'What are you doing here, Finnigan?'

'I've been looking for you all day. Neville said he'd seen you leaving the castle about half an hour ago. What are you doing out here?'

'What business is it of yours, Gryffindor?'

Seamus sighed. 'Draco.'

'Fuck you, Finnigan. What I do with my time is none of your concern.'

'Listen', said Seamus, 'about yesterday. Was that you? I mean- in the library.'

Draco said nothing. He kept kicking the base of the tree, chipping bark from its surface with the toe of his shoe.

'It's just...' Seamus took torn piece of shirt from his pocket. '... I'm sure that I... I just wondered... I didn't...'

'Didn't you hear me? I said fuck off. I've got better things to do than listen you your pathetic ramblings.' Draco clenched his fist. 'I wasn't in the library yesterday. I overslept, went to Umbridge's Dark Arts lesson, then went back to the Common Room. Now leave me alone.'

'I just thought that...'

'You thought wrong, Gryffindor. You thought wrong.'

Seamus paused for a second, and then moved forward to Draco while stuffing the fabric back in his pocket. He put a hand on Malfoy's back. The rainwater on his hand soaked through Draco's shirt onto his bare skin. 'Draco I...'

'_Everte Statum!' _

Draco's voice was determined, and anguished. Seamus was thrown backwards through the air, and then collapsed in a heap on the ground. Damp mud plastered his left side. A single raindrop battled its way through the leafy cover above their heads and landed on Draco's face, followed by another, and another. The thick darkness almost hid the castle completely from view, but neither student had any intention of returning yet.

'You shouldn't have come here,' said Draco. He closed his eyes, gripped the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, then turned and looked at Seamus. He was still lay on the ground. Draco could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 'I...- I didn't mean to hurt you. I...'

'Yes, you did, Malfoy.' Slowly, painfully, Seamus climbed to his feet.

'I... I'm sorry.'

'No, you're not.'

'Listen, Cho's probably waiting for you back up in the castle. You should go back.'

'I don't want to see Cho.'

'I know how you feel about her. You should be with her.'

'I don't want to be with her, Malfoy.'

'But I thought you two were...' Draco paused. It pained him to say the word. 'Together.'

'Together? Me and Cho? Why would you think that?'

'I saw you two. In the library. You kissed her.'

'She kissed me.'

'It doesn't matter. You kissed. You told her you liked her. I heard you, so don't lie to me and say you're not together, that you don't care about her, that you don't love her.'

'Malfoy I... I don't want her. She asked me if I wanted to go to the Winter Ball with her. I said yes and it just... happened. I'm just trying to be normal.'

'Well, you're not _normal_, Finnigan. You're not.'

Finnigan furrowed his brow, and spoke with a deeper, angrier tone. 'Hey, you can't give me a lecture about trying to be normal. Don't you remember how you spoke to me in Potions? Scared of being shown up by all your little Slytherin friends? You humiliated me. I cared about you, Draco, and you spat it back in my face.'

He walked towards Draco, staring into his eyes. Malfoy could see nothing but resentment in them. Seamus reached into his pocket. Draco braced himself, waiting for Seamus to draw his wand and hit him back; take his revenge for how he'd treated him. Instead, he saw him pull a torn piece of fabric from his pocket, which he then threw at Draco's feet.

'Fuck you, Malfoy.'

Draco watched on, speechless, as Seamus turned and walked away. He reached down and picked the fabric from the floor. It was the torn piece of his shirt, still warm from being held so close to Finnigan's body. He couldn't believe it; Seamus had kept the fabric. He'd carried it with him. He really did care. In that second, Draco abhorred himself for what he had done. He had driven away somebody that had cared about him, he had chosen his family name over his own desires, he had betrayed himself. He was ashamed.

The rain was getting even heavier. Crashes of thunder roared overhead. Jagged lightning tore across the sky, like it tore through Malfoy's soul. He broke into a run, hoping Seamus hadn't gotten too far. He didn't know whether it was raindrops or tears on his face, but he didn't care either. They seeped into his eyes and blurred his vision. The darkness prevented him seeing anything more than a few paces in front of him.

He shouted out into the darkness, 'Finnigan! Stop!'

There was no reply.

'Seamus!'

He kept running, desperately. He had no idea if he was going in the right direction anymore. He clawed out in the darkness, praying that his hand would find Seamus. Praying that he could forgive him. There was nobody there. His feet could carry him no longer as he scrambled madly in a paroxysm of sorrow. There was nobody there.

'Draco?'

Draco felt a hand touch his back. He turned, and saw Seamus looking back at him. A smile crept across Seamus's face and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Draco kissed him. He kissed him with the conviction of a lover, like his dying act, like he wished to do nothing else in the world but kiss him. Seamus threw his arms around him and felt him trembling. Draco was cold, so cold, but in Seamus's arms his heart was warm, and he was safe.

They embraced, hidden away from the world, hidden away from all else. Here, they knew that they were normal, and they were cared for, because they were together. Draco went to kiss Seamus again, but he backed his head away a little so he could speak.

'Thank you, Draco.'

Draco looked into his eyes again, and saw no resentment. He saw nothing but the eyes of his lover, the eyes he wanted to see forevermore. A smile crept across Draco's face, and he began to laugh. He held Seamus closer. He rested his head on Seamus's chest, and closed his eyes.

'Thank you, Seamus.'

Together, they stood. On the cusp of the Forbidden Forest, in the rain, in the darkness, and they laughed. And they loved.

_**15**__**th**__** December. Charms Corridor. 10.55AM.**_

Luckily for Seamus, Professor Flitwick was running late, so he was able to join the rest of the class without anybody noticing. He and Draco had snuck off to the boys' bathroom after Transfiguration, and he had been worried that everyone would start to suspect something when the two students arrived late together. As inconspicuously as possible, he shuffled through the crowd and joined his fellow Gryffindors near the front of the queue. Draco followed a few minutes after and joined his Slytherin friends at the opposite end of the corridor. They exchanged a quick smile, acknowledging each other's presence, but nothing more.

'Hey you!' announced the voice of Cho Chong, as she rushed up to Seamus and hugged him. She greeted many of her friends this way, but, for some reason, Seamus felt like it was wrong. He looked to Draco, praying that he hadn't seen, and luckily he hadn't. He was embroiled in some discussion with his friends, probably mocking the rest of the class for being so eager to get into the lesson that they stood around the door.

'Hey,' said Cho, 'what's up with you?'

'Nothing. Why?'

'You didn't even say hello! I would've thought you'd been glad to see me, especially now I'm your _date_.'

'To the ball, yeah.' Seamus wondered whether he should've have added an _'only'_ in there, just to make it clear that they were still just friends, but Cho wasn't acting any different to usual. He just hoped that she wasn't taking their kiss too seriously. Draco was clearly the focus of attention in his friends as they all laughed loudly in response to something he said. Seamus wished he could hear.

'What's up with you today? You seem... distracted.'

'S-sorry,' Seamus stuttered. 'I'm still not sleeping that well.' He pulled his eyes away from Malfoy and looked at Cho.

'It's not Malfoy again is it? He's not giving you more trouble?'

'No, no. Nothing like that.'

'You're acting awful strange today, Seamus,' she said, with a chuckle. He chuckled too.

'Good morning, class!' announced the cheery voice of Professor Flitwick, who Seamus could hear but not see. When not stood on his perch at the front of the classroom, Flitwick was usually obscured from vision because he was so short. The sound of the classroom door unlocking revealed his position, and Seamus slowly made his way in along with the crowd. Except for the Slytherins, of course, who had to enter last.

Finnigan examined the classroom, looking for vacant seats where he and his friends could fit. Suddenly, Cho grabbed a hold of his hand.

'Come on, let's get the seats at the back!' She led him off towards the back of the classroom, dragging him with a surprising amount of force. She laughed loudly as she made her way to the seats she had decided on, her walk almost becoming a skip. 'I think I've chosen my gown for the ball. Have you chosen your suit?'

'No, not yet I haven't.'

'Seamus!', she said, hitting him playfully in the chest. 'It's only a week away! What if your owl gets sick and can't deliver it on time? What if...'

She was interrupted by the laughing of the Slytherins as they entered the classroom. Draco, the ringleader, was looking at Blaise and laughing. His eyes looked across the classroom, searching for clusters of free seats. His eyes met Finnigan's, then Cho's, then Finnigan's again. Seamus's stomach churned. He flashed a smile at Draco, even though he knew their arrangement forbade it. Draco wasn't looking any more though, as he had moved to the opposite side of the room to take his seat with his friends.

The hour was awkward, with a combination of Cho asking Seamus what was wrong and then pestering him about the ball, Flitwick trying to teach the group a charm that was too difficult, and Draco ever so often turning around and catching Finnigan's eye. He desperately awaited the lesson to end so he could be with Draco again, and make sure he was okay. As soon as Flitwick dismissed them, Seamus jumped from his seat ready to leave.

'Fancy coming for lunch?' asked Cho, with a broad smile across her face.

'No, I've got someplace to be. I'll catch you later, okay?' Seamus started heading for the door, until Cho grabbed his arm.

'Woah, woah. Where are you off to in such a hurry? Don't I get a kiss before you go?'

'I, uh...-'

Cho stepped up to Seamus and pecked him on the lips. He stared at her blankly.

'Listen, Cho we... we can't...'

Seamus glanced around the room, trying to piece together the words in his head. How could he tell her that he didn't want to be with her? How could he reject her, giving no excuse, no reason? Across the room, he saw Draco staring at him. _Oh no,_ thought Seamus _Did he see it? Did he see everything?_ Draco walked out of the room.

'Listen, Cho, I've gotta go. I'll catch you later.' Seamus left, almost in a run, chasing Draco from the room. He battled his way through the other students trying to fit through the doorway, but by the time he reached the corridor Draco was heading around the corner at the opposite end. He broke into a sprint, chasing desperately after him.

'Draco! Draco, wait!'

He rushed around the corner, where Draco had stopped running and was waiting for him. The corridor was empty, and led to nothing but a dead end. They paused for a second, then jumped at each other, both kissing the other passionately. Seamus ran his fingers through Draco's perfect hair, and ran his other hand down Draco's side. Draco pushed him against the wall, biting at his lip, and then kissing him again.

_**15**__**th**__** December. Charms Corridor. 12.00PM.**_

'What was up with him today, Cho?' asked Neville, who joined her in watching Seamus run from the classroom.

'I don't know,' she replied, 'but I'm gonna find out.'

Quickly, she packed her quill and ink bottle away in her bag and started after Seamus. Rushing for the doorway, she bumped into Neville and shouted her apologies back to him. Bursting out into the corridor, she looked in both directions for any sign of Seamus, but the crowds of other students leaving classrooms obscured her vision. She leant herself against the wall, defeatedly, until the sound of running footsteps echoed in her ears. Somebody was running down the corridor, down to the dead end that used to be the entrance to the Charms Lab until it was shut down for repairs after an accident with one of the first years and a bad _Incendio _spell. Slowly, she made her way down, cursing herself for being so distrusting.

'I'm really sorry', said a male voice. A male voice that she recognised as Seamus's.

'I know. I know you didn't mean to. I mean, what could you do?', said another male voice. She didn't recognise it.

'She practically threw herself at me. I didn't know what to do. Or say.'

Cho felt herself scowling. She moved closer to the corner in the corridor, preparing to jump out and shout at Seamus for leading her on.

'It's okay. She doesn't know. It's probably for the best – nobody suspects anything.' Something about the second male voice sounded familiar. Cho did recognise it, but she couldn't place whose it was.

'I know,' said Seamus, 'I feel bad'n'all, but what could I say?'

Cho thought of plenty of things that _she _could say, starting with plenty of swear words and then a firm kick in the shin, or worse. The thought was so satisfying that she let out the tiniest involuntary giggle, then clasped her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes tight.

The two male voices hushed each other. Cho could hear them moving closer to the corner. She stepped to the edge, as silently as she could, and hid behind the pillarstone that formed the corner, keeping her obscured from the view of the corridor.

'Hello?' said Seamus, loudly. He waited a few seconds, then moved back around the corner. 'Can't see anybody,' he said to the other boy.

'When will I see you again?' questioned the other voice.

'After lunch?'

'Can't; I have to go finish my Transfiguration reading. How about later? Say, six-ish?'

Silently, Cho stepped away from the pillarstone, and tried to work out from the voices how far down the next corridor they were. She wondered if she could poke her head around without them noticing.

'Yeah, six-ish sounds good. I don't have any plans', said Seamus.

She had to know who it was. She had to know what was going on. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel herself twitching from the adrenalin running through her body. Gently manoeuvring herself forward she edged herself along the pillar, letting one eye see down the corridor.

'Okay, six-ish it is. I'll be outside the Great Hall.'

Cho looked on in horror as she saw Seamus reach forward and run two fingers gently through Draco Malfoy's blonde hair, then bring them down to his cheek and pull his face closer until their lips met. She felt the tears gathering in her eyes. She pulled her hand to her mouth, trying desperately not to sob, as she watched Seamus and Malfoy move their faces away from one another and smile as they looked into each other's eyes. They beamed happiness, feeding her the sickness of misery inside her.

Slowly, silently, she backed around the corner and took her place again behind the pillar, obscured from view. There she waited, in complete silence, listening to Seamus and Malfoy kiss before they started to walk away. They passed her, but she knew they wouldn't see her. They were too caught up in their secret, in their love, to notice one insignificant, worthless girl. As they headed out of sight, Cho felt her legs weakening. She clutched at her stomach as, slowly, she let her back slide down the pillar until she was sad at the floor.

There, she sobbed, in silence.

_**15**__**th**__** December. Great Hall. 5.50PM.**_

'Hey Seamus, where did you go in such a hurry earlier?' asked Neville.

'Oh, nowhere special,' replied Seamus, having perfected his excuse earlier. 'I just... left something important in the Potions room and wanted to pick it up before Snape locked up for the night.'

'Are you off again?' Seamus was putting his jacket on.

'Yeah, I've just got a couple of things to do before lights out'.

Seamus looked to Cho, who was staring blankly at a copy of _Quidditch Through The Ages _by Kennilworthy Whisp. 'You okay, Cho?'

She didn't reply.

'Hey, Cho? I asked if you're okay?'

'Oh, sorry', she replied. Her voice was distinctly lacking her usual assertiveness. 'I'm fine, yeah. Where are you going?'

'Just out.'

'Oh.'

Her bluntness was alarming, but Seamus had bigger things to worry about, namely where him and Draco would be able to hide without being noticed. He started walking for the door. Cho sighed and put her book down.

'Seamus, wait a minute.' She climbed from her seat and rushed over to him. 'I was just wondering if you fancied helping me practice some spells? It's just I have this Transfiguration exam in a couple of days and I'm a bit worried.'

'Oh, Cho, y'know I would but I've gotta...'

'Please?'

Seamus could see the sorrow in her eyes. He felt an immeasurably guilt weigh him down, sinking him into the ground. 'Um, how's tomorrow? We could go outside in the sun. More space, y'know.'

Cho was looking straight into Seamus's eyes. Her eyes almost looked teary. She looked past him and saw Draco walk into the Great Hall. Seamus turned around and saw him, then looked back to her. She looked at him, then at Draco again, then back to him.

'Yeah, you have more important things to attend to. Or is that more important people?'

'Cho, wha...-' Cho pushed Seamus out of the way, and ran down the hall towards Draco. He moved out of her way, as she charged past. Seamus followed her, but stopped next to Draco. They looked at each other, both silently acknowledging that he had to go after her. Seamus shook his head apologetically, then ran off after the Ravenclaw before she got out of sight.

'Cho, wait!' he shouted as she ran, hysterically, down the staircase into the dungeon. The sound of her crying echoed off the walls, filling Seamus's ears with an unbearable guilt. Eventually, her pace slowed, and he was able to catch up. He put her hand on her arm. 'Cho, I'm sorry.'

She turned to him with malice in her eyes, and pushed him away so hard that he hit the wall. She walked towards him, a fury burning inside her, and punched him hard in the shoulder. He winced in pain.

'You betray me, you use me, you laugh at me behind my back, and you do it without showing the least bit of remorse. You're disgusting, Seamus.' She kicked him hard in the shin, causing him to fall to the ground. 'You're a disgusting human being.'

'I'm... I didn't mean to... I was only...'

'Shut up. You told me you liked me.' Cho's voice became filled with sadness, cracking as tears fell from her eyes. 'You kissed me!'

Cho turned and started to walk away, back toward the staircase. The noise of Seamus whimpering was all that stopped her. She turned and looked at him, determined not to lose her front. He lay on the floor clutching his left shoulder with his arm. His other arm was wrapped around his knees. His face was pressed against them, sobbing. Footsteps echoed of somebody approaching, but Seamus didn't move. Two Slytherin first years walked around the corner and saw him curled up on the floor, sobbing.

They began taunting him and laughing to each other. One of them kicked him again in the side. Cho looked on, half of her wanting to defend Seamus, the other half wanting to join in.

'_Expelliarmus!_' announced the voice of Draco Malfoy as he descended the stairs to the dungeons. One of the two first years was thrown backwards onto the floor. 'You two need to learn to mind your own business. You'll be out of here before I reach you if you have any common sense.' They scarpered at the sight of the feared Malfoy, rushing away down the corridor. Draco rushed over to the injured Seamus and held him. 'It's okay, I'm sorry. I wasn't here for you. I should have been here.'

Cho looked on in silence.

Seamus lifted his tear-marked face. Draco brushed them away with his thumb and then smiled as a couple of tears fell from his own eyes. 'Come on, let's go.'

'No,' winced Seamus, struggling to speak after having been winded by the kick. 'Draco, I need to do this alone. I can't do this to her.'

Draco looked at him again, smiled, kissed him on the lips, and then helped him to his feet. Cho approached them, and supported Seamus from the opposite side.

'Malfoy,' she said, timidly, 'won't those boys tell everyone else what you did?'

'Probably.'

'But, your reputation.' Cho's voice was confused and bewildered, with undertones of anger still causing her to grit her teeth.

'I can rebuild a reputation. Seamus can't rebuild a broken rib quite as quickly.'

Seamus chuckled. So did Cho, though she admonished herself for doing so.

'Listen,' said Seamus to Draco. 'I'll catch up with you later. I need to talk to Cho.'

Draco nodded, then headed off into the dungeons, back toward the Slytherin Common Room. Seamus couldn't help but feel guilty for the damage he'd done to Draco's reputation, but at the minute he had to worry about Cho. She helped him ascend the stairs, then they found a bench together, away from anybody else, overlooking the courtyard.

'Listen, Cho...'

'I know, Seamus. I know about you two. I saw you.'

'Oh Cho, I'm so sorry.'

'Listen,' she said, 'what you did was wrong.'

'I know. I wanted to tell you so badly.'

'Well, you should have. You hurt me, Seamus. You really hurt me.'

'I wish I could take it all back. I wish everything could be like it was before all this happened.'

'No you don't,' said Cho, allowing Seamus to rest on her shoulder, and kissing him gently on the head, 'you two might never have found each other. When I first found out, I was furious. I was disgusted. I felt ashamed. But, that's before I understood. What you two have... that's something special, Seamus. I'm happy for you, even if it did mean I got hurt.'

'I wish it hadn't been you. I've ruined everything. You won't want to even be my friend anymore.'

'In a weird way, I'm glad it was me.' Seamus lifted her head and looked at her. 'Because, otherwise I wouldn't have found out today. It means so much to me to know that you're happy. To know that you have somebody. Even if that somebody is Malfoy.'

Seamus chuckled. 'You don't know him like I do, Cho. He is caring, underneath that exterior. He resents everything his family makes him stand for. He really does.'

'I know. Somehow, I know. I saw that today, the way he saved you, the way he cares for you.'

They didn't feel that anything more needed to be said. Seamus still felt guilt for the pain he had put her through, but he was so happy. He and Cho sat and watched: they looked out over the courtyard as the evening approached. This tiny spot of beauty held in the palm of Hogwarts. Amongst its rivalries, its enemies, its anguishes and hard times, this beautiful place lives on.

'Cho?'

'Yes?'

'Can we still go to the Ball together?'

'Yes.'

'... As friends?'

'Yes, as friends, Seamus.'

He smiled, and rested his head on her shoulder again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**24**__**th**__** December. Gryffindor Common Room. 8PM.**_

It was the night of the Winter Ball. Neville was pacing the Common Room practising his dance steps. The room was buzzing with terrified men writhing uncomfortably in their suits and elated women prancing elegantly in their gowns. The atmosphere was alight with joy, festive spirits and happiness. Seamus looked at himself in the mirror. His suit was black with red stitching and a badly knotted tie. He had tried to do something with his hair which hadn't really worked, but he was satisfied with the attempt. He started running through dance steps in his mind, just as he and Cho had practised, but he could hardly remember any. Seeing Neville's attempts made him feel somewhat better about his own inadequacy.

Professor McGonagall entered the Common Room. She was dressed in a slim gown in Gryffindor colours. Several of the girls complimented her on it as she took her position in front of the fireplace. 'Gryffindor, it's time for the Winter Ball! Boys, you will be led to the Great Hall first, and then girls you will join us after. Gentlemen, you have two minutes to prepare yourself, then we go.'

Seamus's heart raced. His legs trembled nervously, anticipating the awkward first dance. What if Cho didn't like his suit? What if he was humiliated in front of everyone? He wished Draco was attending, because just knowing that he was there would calm him, but the Slytherin had decided that such festivities weren't his scene and he couldn't tarnish his image so irreparably, no matter how hard Seamus had tried to persuade him. He adjusted his tie one last time and then made his way up to the professor.

'Mr Finnigan,' announced Professor McGonagall, light-heartedly, 'you can't possibly allow me to let you attend the Ball with your tie in such a state!' She perched herself on the edge of the chair and untied the scruffy mess, then, with a wave of her wand, it recrafted itself into a fashionably oversized knot, and drew itself up under his chin.

'And who has the delight of your company at the ball tonight, Mr Finnigan?'

'Cho Chang, Professor.'

'Ah, yes, Miss Chang and you have been spending an awful lot of time together, Mr Finnigan. I had noticed.' She half smiled, then placed her wand in her pocket.

'We're just friends.' Seamus asserted.

'I'm sure, Mr Finnigan,' replied the Professor, obviously biting her tongue to not make any further comments. 'You make sure you're a gentleman tonight.'

'Yes Professor,' said Seamus, as he turned to walk away.

'And Mr Finnigan?' Seamus turned back to her. 'Enjoy yourself.' She smiled a broader smile than he had ever seen her give before, and somehow Seamus could tell that she knew it wasn't really Cho that he wanted to go with. But knowing that she understood made him feel better, even if she didn't know who he really wanted to be with.

'Right, Gryffindor boys, onward to the Ball!' announced Professor McGonagall, waving her wand again. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, revealing a red carpet trailing down the corridor. The cacophony of awkward boys lined up, each adjusting their ties, tucking in their shirts, or subtly mouthing their dance steps to themselves. McGonagall led the way, and slowly, nervously, they followed.

_**24**__**th**__** December. Ravenclaw Common Room. 8.10PM.**_

'Girls, are you ready?' queried the anxious voice of Professor Flitwick while knocking at the door of the girls' dormitory. 'It's time to go.'

The door creaked open, and out stepped the beautiful girls of Ravenclaw. Amongst them stood Cho Chang dressed in a dark green, silk gown. It clung to her figure, showing off the majestic curvature of her hips. In one hand she carried a black clutch bag embroidered with golden lace. Within it, she carried her essentials for the evening: lipstick, a mirror, her wand and a couple of Galleons.

As she followed Flitwick down the red carpet towards the Great Hall, her limbs tingled with anticipation. She had lived this moment a thousand times in her head. The great oak doors towered high above them. With a flick of his wand, Flitwick commanded them open. Cho took a sharp intake of breath and then looked into the chamber. It was nothing short of magical.

A staircase stood before them, leading down toward the congregation of boys. The walls were lit by goblets, burning bright icy blue. Snowflakes fell from the enchanted ceiling, tumbling downward then dissipating into nothingness. At the opposite end of the hall, the teachers' bench had been rearranged to form seating for an enchanted orchestra of instruments playing themselves in harmony. Her eyes navigated every inch of the room, until finally falling on the face of Seamus. He was looking back at her, and smiling. Gracefully, she descended the staircase.

'Cho, you look beautiful', he said, nervously. Cho suspected he would have said it regardless of how she looked, but she didn't mind.

'Thanks Seamus.'

'No, you really do. You always do.'

Cho blushed, then hugged him. 'Come on,' she said, 'I want to dance.'

_**24**__**th**__** December. Slytherin Common Room. 8.20PM.**_

Draco sat opposite Blaise and Goyle on the Slytherin Common Room sofas. He looked at each of them intensely, weighing up his odds.

'Hit me,' he said.

Goyle narrowed his eyes slightly.

'Go on, hit me.'

Goyle reached across the table, pulled a card from the top of the deck and put it down in front of Malfoy.

'Jack of Spades', he said. The animated Jack of Spades on the card laughed loudly.

Tension crept through the air, leaving it stale and decrepit.

'Bust,' announced Malfoy.

Goyle cheered in response, and scooped up his winnings. 'Again?'

'Nah man,' said Blaise, getting up from his seat and stretching his arms outward, 'this is boring. Let's go to the girls' dorm.'

Several others nodded in agreement and climbed to their feet. Draco remained sat on the sofa, shuffling the deck between his fingers.

'You coming, man?' asked Blaise.

'No, no – I've got some stuff to finish first.'

'C'mon mate, you know Patsy's gaggin' for it. She wants you.'

'Maybe another day, Blaise.'

'What's up with you lately, man?'

'Nothing, Blaise. Just go already.'

Blaise sneered as he headed out of the room, followed by his mob of Slytherin boys. Malfoy turned towards the fireplace and fanned the deck of cards out in his hands. One by one, he threw them into the flames and watched them animated figures panic as the card curled up and blackened.

Hardly any Slytherins had gone to the Winter Ball. Draco suspected that many of them wanted to, but knew the threat of losing social prestige would sway them otherwise. Seamus had begged him to go, but Draco had refused vehemently. He hadn't celebrated Christmas since he was a little boy, and that was only when his father had the time for him. He was a busy man, and festivities weren't his concern. Draco had grown into a respectable young man without them, so what was their point? The Winter Ball felt too much like an undeserved celebration.

He finished disposing of pack of cards in the fire, throwing the final handful in at once, then took his wallet from his pocket. Carefully, Draco glared around the room, looking out for onlookers or eavesdroppers. Easing the fabric open carefully with his fingers, Draco opened a concealed compartment that he had created a few days ago on the back of the wallet by delicately and precisely cutting the material. He pulled out a small photograph of himself and Seamus at Hogsmede, taken by Cho last week. They had both been wrapped up warm with coats, scarves and gloves on, but Seamus still kept his arm wrapped around Draco and insisted on asking him every few minutes whether he was warm enough. The picture caught a moment where Draco turned to Seamus to kiss him, but was then hit by a snowball thrown by a mischievous Cho. It never failed to make Draco laugh.

The sound of somebody descending the stone staircase behind him caught him by surprise, and he closed his hand tight. It was Blaise, returning from the girls' dormitory.

'Malfoy, Pansy's asking for you.'

'Tell her I'm busy.' Malfoy turned back towards the fireplace and looked at the ashes left by the cards. The tongues of flame licked at the charred remnants, tearing them apart, breaking them down.

'What the hell's up with you lately, Malfoy?'

'What? Nothing. I'm just busy.'

'You're sat throwing cards into the fireplace. You're not busy. Why aren't you in the Girls' Dorm?'

'I don't feel like it, Blaise.'

'I'm startin' to think you're bent or somethin', man. Get it together, Malfoy. Pansy's waiting for you.'

'Fuck you, Blaise. I'm not gay.'

'Then why the hell aren't you up there? What would your father say if he found out you were sat down here like some queer while the rest of us were upstairs.'

'Just... leave me alone, Blaise.'

'Whatever, man. I'll tell Pansy you'll be up soon.'

As he ascended the stairs, Malfoy untensed his arms and fists. His heart sank as he saw the screwed up photograph reveal itself in his tightly-held fist as it relaxed. He tried to smooth it out, but the creases were too deep. His face was disfigured and hideous in the mesh of creases. Even his perfect moment had been destroyed by the brutality of Malfoy. The disfigured and hideous face on the photograph was his own, and he knew he wore it every day of his life. He threw the photograph into the flames and watched as the tendrils of flame tore into it, burning it away into ashes. He hoped that, like a phoenix, he could feel reborn from the ashes, forget his family heritage, forget his name, forget everything, but it could never be that simple.

Draco climbed to his feet, feeling his body ache with disgust and self-loathing. He turned, every step more laborious than the last, and climbed the stairs toward the dormitories. He reached the landing, and looked first in one direction, then in the other: to his left lay the boys' dorm; to the left, the girls'.

_**24**__**th**__** December. The Winter Ball. 10PM.**_

Seamus and Cho danced, stepping rhythmically and magnificently. Cho's footing was impeccable and perfected. Seamus was clumsier, but he improvised where necessary to keep up. Nothing would let him ruin this night for Cho. Her frame glowed with happiness, tracing her skin with a golden tinge. It radiated from her fingertips, her eyes, her smile, and filled Seamus with such a profound elation that he wanted to do nothing but keep dancing with her. Every step fed their happiness. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel guilty. He knew that she had forgiven him for what he had done.

Eventually, the music slowed, and couples around them drew each other closer for a slow dance. Awkwardly, Seamus drew Cho closer, and felt her body against his. They swayed side to side. He brushed a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear, and smiled at her. She giggled childishly, then leant forward and rested her head on his shoulder. Seamus looked out over the room at the couples dancing: a countless number of boys dancing with a countless number of girls, some exchanging loving glances, some kissing, some just embracing each other. Many dancers had retreated to the corners of the room, sampling the delights of the buffet, then sitting down to witness the rare expression of love and compassion that was taking place in this dance.

Amongst these dancers was Ron Weasley, Seamus's fellow Gryffindor. He was looking out over the crowd, smiling, while stuffing his face with a variety of cheeses that he had accumulated over the night on his buffet plate. He met eyes with Seamus, then smiled and raised his eyebrows, miming his dance with Cho. The illusion was so convincing that even Seamus's dearest friends believed he was interested in Cho as more than friend. But that's all it was: an illusion. A farce, a fraud, a lie. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wanted nothing more than to dance this dance with Draco, to express his love and compassion, to share it with the world, but the world would not understand. Somehow, this all felt wrong.

He wanted Draco to burst through the doors, lead him away, dance with him in front of everybody. They shouldn't have to care what anyone thinks. He looked to the door hopefully, but nobody came. He felt Cho's fingers loosen on his back. He desperately wanted the happiness back. To continue dancing with her. To feel the happiness pouring from her fingertips, to make her happy, but there are some things that Seamus knew he couldn't sacrifice.

'Cho, I...'

'I know, I know.'

'I just wish he was here.'

'I know.'

'I'm sorry.'

_**24**__**th**__** December. Boys' Dormitory, Slytherin Common Room. 11PM.**_

Draco lay in bed, face down. He was ashamed. He knew he had let Seamus down. He knew he had let himself down. He had told Seamus he wasn't going, but he could see in his eyes that he thought he would show up. A knight in shining armour. That was something Draco could never be. He was a Malfoy - a bully, a coward, a traitor. Thinking back over the past few hours made him feel sick. He knew what he had done. He knew he had climbed into Pansy's bed, he knew she had touched his bare chest, ran her fingers through his hair, and he had kissed her. Even though he left before anything more happened, he knew he had betrayed Seamus. He betrayed the only person that had ever truly cared about him. Tears welled up in his eyes. He pressed his face down into the pillow to hide the noise of his sobbing.

The door opened behind him, and he quickly brushed his hands across his face to hide the teary streaks that marked his cheeks.

'Malfoy? What are you doing in here, mate? I saw you go upstairs with Pansy.' Blaise's voice was cold and ruthless.

'I left.'

'You... left?' Blaise walked around Malfoy's bed, and looked him in the face. 'Are you... crying?'

Malfoy turned away.

'Oh my God, I was right. You're fucking queer!' Blaise chuckled as he spoke.

'Get out, Blaise.'

Blaise began to laugh louder. Malfoy stood.

'Get out, Blaise.'

'Why? What are you gonna do, man? Go running off to the rest of your bent friends?'

Malfoy balled his fists. He could feel blood pumping through the veins in his neck. He tried desperately to restrain himself, but the urge to hit Blaise was nearly overwhelming. His heart was painfully pounding in his chest.

'Draco Malfoy,' said Blaise. 'Laughing stock of the school. Laughing stock of the Malfoy family.'

Draco unleashed his fists, landing one firmly in Blaise's stomach, and releasing the other as an uppercut, crashing against his chin, sending him flying backward onto the floor. The Slytherin trembled, blood dripping from his mouth, as Draco towered over him and pinned him to the ground. He drew his fist high in the air and, with all his strength, forced it into Blaise's face. Then again, and again. He reached around on the ground, scrambling for anything he could hit him with. Reaching outward, his fingers found the crystal ball from his bedside table. He lifted it high in the air, high above Blaise's head, and braced himself. He knew the damage it would cause, but he didn't care anymore.

Blaise struggled, coughing up blood. One of his eye sockets was swelling up. Blood trickled from a cut near his temple. He was trying to speak, but his throat was so full of blood that Malfoy couldn't understand what he was saying. He lifted the crystal ball higher, then looked at his victim, preparing to strike. The light of the dormitory goblet was refracting in the orb, casting a spectrum of colours across Blaise's cut face. Malfoy froze. The colours danced, reflecting in the blood, flickering from bold and intense to faded and weak. But they were there. And they were beautiful. Blaise's uninjured eye started to roll back in his head. Within seconds, he fell unconscious.

Draco placed the crystal ball back on his bedside unit. And, in that moment, he was nothing more than Draco. No Malfoy name to blame. It was _he_ who had done this, because he was not strong enough to become his own person. He was not strong enough to go against the Malfoy name alone, and the blame lay with him alone. He resented himself for what he had done, and, there, stood above the bloodied body of his fellow student, he resented all that the Malfoy name stood for. Something which he would stand for no more.

_**24**__**th**__** December. Outside the Great Hall. 11.50PM.**_

The Great Hall had been closed for twenty minutes, but Seamus still sat outside. He had undone his tie, and was wearing it casually across his shoulders. All the other students had gone back to their Common Rooms but he waited behind, saying he needed some fresh air.

'Hey you.' The voice of Cho Chang echoed in the empty corridor.

'Hey,' replied Seamus. His voice sounded sombre, but not upset. 'Look, I'm sorry if I ruined tonight for you. I'm really, really sorry.'

'You didn't ruin tonight. You _made_ tonight, Seamus. You made me feel like the most important girl on Earth.'

'You are the most important girl on Earth to me, Cho. You've been there for me. You deserve somebody who really loves you. Who can finish the slowdance with you.'

'Don't be silly. Listen, I'll go get us a couple of drinks. Wait here.' Cho giggled, and then headed off down the corridor, looking back one last time before she disappeared around the corner to check that Seamus was okay.

He knew that he was okay. Nothing bad had happened. He had spent the most amazing evening with Cho. He had danced until his feet hurt. He had felt so happy. As much as he had wanted Draco there, Seamus had accepted that he didn't want to be a part of this. It was all some fantasy inside his head: Draco sweeping him off his feet, dancing with him in front of everyone, without reserve or fear. It was a fantasy that could never be. They would be the laughing stock of the school. The burden of their relationship meant that they had to live it in secret, but he could do that for Draco. In his heart, he could feel himself falling in love.

But he also knew there was no point wallowing in the corridor. He and Cho could go for their drink. They could chat about all the fun times they'd had tonight, all the fun times they were going to have in the future. It meant so much to him that she would be there for him, and he could only hope that she knew how much he wanted to be there for her too. He knew it wouldn't be easy with Draco, but having her there as support meant the world. A smile crept across his face as he climbed to his feet and started tracing her path, hoping they would bump into each other and could find somewhere nice to sit and chat. Maybe that bench that they had spoken on a couple of weeks ago. The spot felt important to Seamus, and he hoped it did to her too. He knew it would be empty at this time of night.

'Hey Finnegan.'

The words carried through the air so unexpectedly that Seamus was almost sure he had imagined them. It wasn't until he turned around and saw him that he knew that this was real.

Draco stood before him.

He was dressed in smart, black trousers and an expensive-looking white shirt patterned with purple stitching. A small patch of it was missing, where a section had been torn away.

He stretched a hand out to Seamus. It was trembling, and, when Seamus took it, he felt cold.

For a moment, they looked at each other, Seamus still in disbelief that he had really come for him. Draco led him by the hand, walking back towards the Great Hall. The grand doors opened in front of them out onto the empty chamber. Balloons, plastic cups and various other festive decorations littered the floor. The room was deserted. Seamus, still speechless, looked at Draco. Draco looked back at him, and smiled, then nodded his head into the room. Seamus nodded back.

Together, they sprinted to the centre of the dancefloor. The chorus of instruments began to pick up again, sensing somebody nearby. They played a slowdance. Draco pulled him close, and they danced. Smiling and laughing as they did.

Their feet kicked at the stranded balloons and empty cups on the ground. Their fingers intertwined.

Seamus gazed around the empty chamber, still in disbelief. He saw Cho stood in the doorway, holding two cups. She was laughing, and wiping tears from her cheek.

He felt whole. He felt loved. He brushed the tears from Draco's face and kissed him, holding him so tight, feeling his heart beating against his chest. The clock chimed midnight as they danced.

Draco kissed him back.

He knew that Seamus had seen him. And he was beautiful.


End file.
